


The Guardian

by shinigami714



Category: The Hobbit, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Character death (not Fili or Kili), Illustrated, Lion Fíli, Lion!Fíli, M/M, Mostly Gen, War Era, World War II, Young Kíli
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 00:46:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4767212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigami714/pseuds/shinigami714
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili's world is turned upside down when the men come knocking at his cabin door one night, forcing his mother and him to flee.  Featuring Lion!Fili.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Guardian

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for the Summer Fandom Raffle Exchange on tumblr. The prompt was: “Fiki – something with actual Lion!Fili. Can be anything from cute, strictly brotherly to other, wilder things.” I drew the picture for this first, but just had to write a story to go along with it.

It was dusk when the men arrived at their tiny cabin in the woods.  Kíli was in the very beginnings of sleep, and he gasped as his mother rushed into his room, waking him quickly and pressing a finger over his lips to shush him.  He was ushered through the hallways, clinging to her night robe as she searched for a way out.  The knocks came at the door.  Heavy and hard, unrushed at first, but quickly escalating the longer they went unanswered.  Kíli felt his heart pounding in his chest, and he whimpered as his mother opened a window and lifted him to the sill.

“Mama, I left Fíli!” he sobbed, turning to head back, but his mother grabbed him tightly and stopped him in his tracks.

“There’s no time darling,” she muttered, her eyes wide and fearful, and Kíli whined in distress at the thought of leaving his beloved stuffed animal behind.  He tried to fight her off, but she gripped his wrists tightly and held him in place with force.

“Climb over, quickly,” she hissed persuasively under her breath, and Kíli scrambled over the edge and into the bushes, trying not to cry out as his legs scratched against the tangled branches.  He heard a loud crash, and his mother’s breath hitched as she turned to look backwards with wide eyes.  She wasted little time, and climbed out of the window, tugging Kíli up from the ground just as several uniformed men forced their way into the room.  They shouted, moving to chase after them, and his mother grabbed his wrist and dragged him along behind her.

“Run Kíli!” she howled, twisting back to watch the men crawling through the window.  Several more stomped around the side of the house, and it urged her onwards. The two hurried between the trees, jumping over fallen logs and forcing branches aside with their arms.  Kíli flinched as his face scratched against them, and he stumbled over the rough ground and fell to his knees.  The brunet wailed as his skin tore, and his mother grabbed him, hoisting him once again to his feet.

“Hurry sweetheart!” she pleaded, pushing him in front of her, and he ran through the pain, wincing as he felt the blood dripping down his legs.  Voices echoed behind them, and ahead Kíli could hear the mechanical sounds of a train passing by.  He stumbled again as gun shots rang out around them, and heard his mother gasp in pain.  They jumped and ducked, moving as fast as can be, though there was a definite limp in his mother’s hurried steps.  Kíli saw little more than a blur of dark green, and suddenly they stopped, staring frantically at the sight ahead. 

The cargo train he’d heard before blocked their path, and Kíli’s chest rose and fell quickly as he struggled to catch his breath.  He felt his mother’s hand tighten around his, and then she was lifting him, and running alongside the train, reaching out towards the cars desperately.  Kíli looked over her shoulder and watched the men enter the clearing, hurrying to follow.  He saw the red bands about their arms, their chiselled and determined faces.  One of them raised a gun and a moment later he felt the wind of a bullet streaking by his face.  His mother wrenched one of the carriage doors open, and Kíli ducked his head at the loud rattling noises that hurt his young ears.  There was a faint press of lips against his cheek and whispered words of love, and he tightened his grip, already knowing what she was about to do.

“Never stop running!” she hissed before wrenching him from her shoulder and lifting him even higher.  He fought and screamed as his mother nearly threw him onto the moving train, leaving him to cling to the open door as she stopped running and gripped at her chest wearily.  Kíli reached out towards her desperately, but the distance between them only grew.

“Mama!” he cried, ignoring the splinters the wooden planks beneath him inflicted on his knees.  She looked up at him in resignation, her eyes pleading with him to understand, and then the men were upon her.  He saw them hit her over the head, saw her fall, the blood leaking onto the ground.  Her body faded from view as the train sped away on the rails, and his legs shook as the car lurched against the metal tracks below.

“Mama!” he shouted one last time, though her form was long gone, and there was no possible way for her to hear.  The sound of his voice was carried away by the rushing wind, and he scrunched up his face in anguish.

He didn’t want to believe it, but he knew in his heart, she was dead. 

The train’s horn sounded amongst the woods, and Kíli felt the tears stinging in his eyes.  He cried for hours, staring out at nothing as the scenery flew by.  It wasn’t fair.  He didn’t understand.  He was scared, and cold, and so very alone.  Why did those men have to come?  Why did they hate them so?  They hadn’t done anything wrong! Kíli’s nails dug into his knees and he wished he had his stuffed lion to comfort him, but he had nothing at all other than the clothes on his back.

Somehow Kíli managed to settle down enough to push the door shut and hide.  He didn’t want his mother’s sacrifice to be for nothing, so he scurried around the carriage until he found a niche behind some boxes and settled against some stacked barrels.  His feet slipped on stray papers, advertisements for a circus, and he stared at the brightly coloured images with expressionless eyes.  His face was sticky with tears, and it wasn’t until his stomach growled angrily that Kíli was forced to explore and search for food. 

In the few days he’d spent on the train, Kíli found little of interest.  The barrels and boxes were filled with metal and scraps of no use to him at all, and he was hard pressed to find enough to keep him fed.  There were pangs in his belly, and he felt nauseous from the never ending rocking motions beneath his feet.  He heard people only once, when the train stopped entirely and other things were loaded into the car by grumbling workers.  They were strange items, murals with frightening people painted upon them, as well as large heavy ropes and long ladders with many rails.  There were rolled up sheets of canvas, and long strings of colourful flags.  But still, he found no food.

He stuck his head out the door once to catch stray raindrops falling from the sky.  It was enough to quench his thirst for a short while, but he still longed for a real meal and a bath.  His clothes were torn and dirty, his skin smudged from crawling around and digging through dust. He was in a terrible state, exhausted and worn from the stress of his sudden loss.  He hadn’t slept hardly a wink, terrifying nightmares taking hold of him the moment he began to drift off.   He didn’t dare touch his hair, already aware of its untameable state.  It had been days since it last saw a brush, since his mother had last braided it with careful fingers.  He felt his eyes welling up again, and Kíli sniffled softly before wiping at his nose.  He remembered the way she looked at him, urging him to live on, and he recalled her rushed words whispered into his ears.  He needed to be brave, he couldn’t give up, not when his mother struggled so to ensure his safety.

Kíli stood unsteadily, moving carefully as the train lurched to and fro.  His feet slid across the floor of the car until he made it to the end.  There was a door leading out towards the next car, and Kíli tugged it open, closing his eyes as a gust of air blew into his face.  He waited a bit, until the train slowed slightly, and then he walked outside, reaching out to grasp the metal guards with force.  He couldn’t bear to look down at the moving railroad ties below, terrified that he might fall and get crushed beneath the weight of the train, but Kíli knew he had to explore further if he hoped to find food.  His breath halted as he stepped over the gap between the carriages, and Kíli shrieked as his feet slipped and he fell directly into the door across.  His heart pounded furiously, and he squeezed his eyes shut and hoisted himself back up, tugging on the door with all his might.  It slid open in a rush, and Kíli stumbled to the side before walking through it and slamming it shut behind him. 

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting inside the car, but he soon realised it was filled with items far stranger than the last.  There were large cages lining the walls, and huge tarps draped over top of many of them.  He swallowed nervously at the strange deep sounds inside the carriage, and inched around the stray boxes and barrels tentatively.  His eyes searched frantically, jolting to the side when he saw movement in one of the cages, and he skittered to the opposite wall, tripping over a stack of cardboard boxes.  Biscuits flew out onto the ground and Kíli felt his palm crushing several of them into crumbs, but his eyes widened and he lunged at them, hurrying to shove the dried bits into his mouth.  They were stale, but he didn’t care.  It was enough to dull the pain inside his stomach, and he sighed in relief at his first taste of food in days.  He dumped an entire box out onto the floor, pooling the crackers between his legs, and he ate as many as he could before stuffing several into his pockets for later.  His throat suddenly felt dry, the crumbs sticking to his teeth and tongue.  It wasn’t long before he wished he hadn’t eaten quite so many.

Sated for a moment, Kíli walked around the rest of the carriage curiously, noticing more of the brightly coloured circus posters stacked inside boxes.  Paint was chipping off of the containers as well, from fancy lettering that was difficult for him to read.  As he stepped by one of the cages, an animal jumped towards him, clinging to the metal bars, and Kíli gasped in surprise and flew far away from it, tripping over a stray ladder in the process.  His hands hit the ground hard, and he knew he would sport several more bruises from the fall.  His brown eyes stared up in surprise, taking in the furry creature that had startled him.  It was a monkey, and it screeched at him loudly as it clawed at its metal prison.   Kíli crawled away quickly and wiped his scraped hands off on his clothes.  He reminded himself to stay far away from that particular cage in the future.  Many of the other cages seemed empty, nothing but stacks of straw strewn about the bottom of them, and Kíli almost wished he could squeeze between the bars and sleep on it instead of the hard floorboards that hurt his back.

He missed his bed, he missed his home, he missed Fíli, and most of all he missed his mother.   Tears dripped down his face furiously as he dwelled on his thoughts, and he didn’t even notice the largest cage in the car until he walked right into the heavy bars.  Kíli jolted and looked into the dark enclosure with blurred vision.  He couldn’t see anything, and it seemed as though it was just another empty cage, but there was one thing that captured his interest.  There was a large bin against the side of the cage filled to the brim with clear liquid.

“Water!” Kíli cried, and he nibbled at his lip and squeezed his fingers tightly around the bars.  The gaps between them were large enough that he might be able to squeeze through if he tried hard enough, and he pushed one leg in and sucked in his breath, squinting as he slid his body in between the bars.  It took a lot of wiggling, but he managed, and soon he was kneeling over the vat and scooping up the liquid towards his mouth.  It was a bit dirty, and pieces of straw along with a few bugs floated atop the surface, but it felt wonderful as it moved down his throat regardless.  Kíli gulped it up eagerly, and then sat down, his back pressed against the bars.  He pulled his knees up to his chin, feeling a small amount of comfort, but he turned his head quickly when he heard movement coming from the darkest corner of the cage. 

Kíli’s eyes flew wide open, and he watched as a shadowy figure approached, slowly emerging from the darkness and taking shape.  It had glowing eyes, thick paws with dangerous looking claws, and a large heavy mane that framed a menacing face.  Kíli’s heart skipped a beat, and he froze, staring at the creature in disbelief.  It bared its teeth, exposing sharp fangs that the brunet knew could tear him limb from limb.  He’d never seen a lion before in real life, and it looked nothing like his little stuffed animal, but he still knew without a doubt that must have been what walked before him.  His lip trembled as it stepped closer, its breathing suddenly loud and ominous, and Kíli realised it was the source of the heavy deep sounds he’d first heard upon entering the car.  He leant back against the bars, but made no move to flee, far too frightened to move.  Even as the paws stamped against the ground before him and he felt the hot wash of air against his face, he sat in place, trembles running through his arms.

Kíli’s eyes slid shut, and he felt tears leaking out again as steady huffs lifted the hair away from his neck and brow.  His eyelashes fluttered, and he felt something cold and wet touch the side of his face.  The lion sniffed at him, nudging his head to and fro, and then its textured tongue shot out and lapped up the tears on Kíli’s skin.  The brunet shivered, and opened his eyes, nose to nose with the beast.  The lion stared at him, and waited, and finally Kíli reached out tentatively to touch the flowing mane.  It was soft beneath his fingers, and his hands gripped it perhaps tighter than they should have, but the lion made no move to attack.  He lifted his fingers to drag over its nose, his nostrils flaring as he stared into expressive pale blue eyes.  He wondered if it had a name, for surely such a thing must. 

“Fíli,” Kíli whispered without thinking.  He thought of his stuffed animal, his home, the familiarity of the name.  It was a comfort of sorts to say it out loud. 

Kíli wasn’t sure what made him move, but he lunged forward towards the animal, wrapping his arms around its neck and tucking his head into the thick mane. He felt the lion shift, and lower its head, but it let him crawl between its legs to cuddle into the warmth its body provided.  Kíli’s shoulders shook as he sobbed into its fur, feeling more lost than ever, and he revelled in the opportunity to take comfort in another, even if it was a lion.  

 _Fíli_ , he reminded himself, not just a lion.  His fingers moved of their own accord, braiding the mane like his mother used to with his hair.  It took him several minutes, and he frequently stopped to rub the wet trails from his face.  Each time he looked up Fíli’s eyes remained focused on him, studying, observing, and ever watching.  Kíli’s body slumped as the sobs tapered off, and he let his hands fall to the ground when exhaustion began to creep up on his mind.  The train jerked harshly against the rails, and he skidded on the wood, feeling achy and tired.  He was surprised when the lion nipped at his shirt and dragged him to the back of the cage.  And once it settled Kíli crawled into the niche before its body, lying over the warm fur and pressing his face against the coarse strands.  

Fíli lifted his head, keeping watch over the rest of the train carriage while Kíli’s eyes drifted shut, his fingers loosening as he began to relax.  The lion’s body rose and fell as it breathed, and Kíli was soon lulled to sleep by the motion, already comforted by the presence of the majestic animal.  He knew he would be safe.  So long as those blue eyes watched over him he had nothing to fear.  He let that notion carry him into dreams no longer haunted by loneliness; instead, before him, stood a regal guardian in the night. 

 [](http://shinigami714.tumblr.com/post/128593790916/140-fiki-something-with-actual-lionf%C3%ADli-can)


End file.
